


no stopping us yet

by superhoney



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, First Kiss, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Temporary Character Death, The Power of the Nephilim, Vague S13 Speculation, spoilers obviously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 20:50:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10975077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superhoney/pseuds/superhoney
Summary: "Everyone is gone except for the two of them. The Winchester brothers at the end of the world, again."But sometimes, when people die, they come back. Dean can only hope this time Cas returns to him.A coda for 12x23.





	no stopping us yet

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got a little idea for a post-finale fic. Nothing revolutionary here, but it's nice to process feelings through fic, isn't it?
> 
> Thanks to Anna for reading this over for me before posting, as always.
> 
> Title from One Love by Marianas Trench.

Dean doesn’t know how long he sits there by Cas’ side, but his knees are starting to twinge uncomfortably and the dampness from the ground is seeping into his skin through his jeans by the time he even considers standing back up.

But standing up feels like giving up. And Dean promised himself a long time he would never do that again. He would never give up on Cas. 

He settles for shifting his position on the cold ground, arranging himself more comfortably as he stares down into Cas’ calm, pale face, the moonlight throwing his cheekbones into stark relief beneath the shadows cast by his eyelashes. He just wants Cas to open those eyes, to give him that grumpy frown, to struggle to sit up so Dean has an excuse to slip an arm around his shoulders and support him, to hold him close and never let him go again.

It’s quiet, only the faint rustling of the leaves on the trees breaking the stillness of the night. Dean doesn’t hear anything from inside the house, and eventually, he realizes that’s probably not a good thing. 

Sam went in there alone. Who knows what he found. Dean should go check on him, but that would mean standing up. Giving up.

He wonders what Cas would do in this situation. He thinks of the way he looked when he came charging through that portal, resolute and righteous. Determined. Dean can’t do much, but he can honour that attitude. This mess is far from over, and there’s still work to be done.

He reaches out, but stops before he touches Cas’ face. He doesn’t want to feel how cold it is, how the skin will feel soft but empty beneath his hand. He smoothes down Cas’ tie instead, straightening it. Swallowing heavily, he pulls himself to his feet and moves towards the house. 

He doesn’t look back.

The house is also quiet, and Dean’s instincts kick into overdrive. He draws his gun and does his best to be quiet on the stairs, but one creaks under his weight. He freezes, his heart pounding in his chest, but nothing happens. He continues to climb.

He checks the bedroom first, but Kelly’s not there. The bed is still rumpled, and Dean frowns at it in confusion before heading down the hall towards the room they were setting up as the nursery.

Sam is there, standing with his back to the door, every line in his body radiating tension. His attention is fixed on something in the far corner of the room, but Dean can’t see around him. He takes a few cautious steps forward, and Sam’s head moves a fraction in his direction, checking to make sure it’s really him. 

What Dean sees stops him dead in his tracks. 

Golden yellow eyes in a pointed, haunted face. A fully-grown adult, not a newborn baby.

No wonder Sam is so tense.

The Nephilim stares at them, and despite the fact that it (he?) looks entirely human other than those eyes, Dean can’t read any emotion on its face. 

“Sam,” he says quietly. “Is it just--”

“It’s just sitting there,” Sam replies without looking at him. “I found it here. We’ve been having this staring contest the whole time.”

Something doesn’t add up. “Where’d Kelly go?” Dean asks. 

Sam turns his head to the side, trusting Dean to keep a watchful eye on the figure in the corner. “What? She’s dead, Dean. I found her in the other room, closed her eyes.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not there now,” Dean mutters. 

He can’t help the flicker of hope that grows in his chest. Kelly was dead, and now she’s possibly not. Cas was dead…

Every fibre of Dean’s being wants to go back outside and have that hope justified, but he can’t leave Sam alone here with this thing.

“If it wanted to hurt me, I think it would have done it by now,” Sam says, and of course that’s the position he would take.

He’s right, though. Lucifer’s baby, which isn’t even a baby at all, is still just watching them. Silently observing. 

“I don’t think Jack is evil,” Sam continues.

“I still can’t believe the most powerful supernatural being in existence is named _Jack_ ,” Dean shoots back.

“It’s what Kelly wanted,” Sam reminds him, and yeah, okay, he has a point.

So Dean drops his weapon, makes a show of putting it away, and takes a cautious step towards the-- Jack. Towards Jack.

“Hey,” he says softly. “I’m Dean. That’s my brother Sam. Maybe you already know this.”

Jack doesn’t respond, but his eyes remain fixed on Dean’s as he speaks, and Dean is certain he can understand him.

“We want to help you,” Sam adds, slowly crossing the room to stand beside Dean once more. “I’m sorry if I scared you, earlier.”

Jack still says nothing.

“Do you know what happened to your mom?” Dean asks. “To Kelly.”

For the first time, there’s a hint of a reaction. Something that looks like concern crosses Jack’s face, but it’s gone too quickly to Dean to really decipher it.

“He’s powerful enough to bring her back, isn’t he?” Sam asks thoughtfully. 

“Probably, but then where is she?” If Kelly were alive, she’d be right here with them, Dean knows it. He also doesn’t think Jack did anything bad to her-- from everything they know, it was bringing him into the world that killed her, not any of his own actions. 

“We can’t just stand here forever,” Sam points out. “We have to…”

He swallows roughly, and Dean realizes how messed up this must be from Sam’s perspective, how their mom and Lucifer are gone into that other world in a way that looked eerily similar to the way Sam took Lucifer with him into the Cage the first time.

“We won’t be able to stop Jack from anything he wants to do,” Dean says. They’re kidding themselves if they think their guns will be any use against him if he does suddenly turn violent. 

Sam nods. “You’re right.” He turns and looks out the window. “Is Cas…”

“We should bring him inside,” Dean says roughly. 

“Yeah. Okay, yeah.” Sam takes a deep breath and turns his back to Jack. Dean watches warily as Sam leaves the room, and when Jack doesn’t react, Dean follows behind him. 

There’s hardly any more damage Jack can do to them at this point anyways. Everyone is gone except for the two of them. The Winchester brothers at the end of the world, again. 

Without saying a word, Dean and Sam lift Cas’ body between them and gently carry him into the house, laying him out on the couch as carefully as they can. Sam keeps giving Dean these looks like he’s expecting him to collapse at any moment, but considering that’s exactly what Dean feels like doing, he can’t even be irritated by it. 

He focuses on arranging Cas’ coat around him, brushing off stray patches of dirt and the twigs and leaves that got caught in its folds. 

“Dean,” Sam says finally.

“Don’t,” Dean tells him without looking up. He’s not ready for this conversation. He probably won’t ever be.

“No, just--” Sam places a hand on his shoulder. “Look at the clock.”

There’s an old-fashioned grandfather clock in the corner of the room, and Dean glances at it, then frowns. The hands are ticking back and forth over and over again, but they’re not making any sound.

“So it’s broken,” he says dismissively. “Stuff breaks, Sam.”

Stuff breaks, and you can fix it. People die, and sometimes they come back.

Sam shakes his head and pulls out his phone, offering it to Dean so he can see the display. The time keeps flashing different numbers at him in no discernible pattern. His interest piqued, Dean takes out his own phone. It’s doing the same thing as Sam’s. 

“That’s not ominous at all,” he mutters. 

The stairs creak, and Dean’s hand flies to his waistband, ready to draw. Jack is coming downstairs, but he doesn’t charge at them or make any other threatening movement, just calmly walks towards them. 

“What if it’s him,” Sam says. “He created a portal into a parallel universe. Space and time obviously don’t play by the rules when he’s around.”

It would explain the how, but not the why. 

“What’s the point in stopping time?” Dean wonders. “What does he want with it?”

Sam shrugs, still watching as Jack approaches. He’s almost beside Dean before he looks down and sees Cas on the couch, and when he does notice him, the change in his demeanour is instantaneous. His brow furrows and he reaches out to Cas with one hand.

Before he can even think about how monumentally stupid it is, Dean smacks his hand away.

“Don’t touch him,” he growls.

Jack looks at him, startled, and Dean has a moment to think _oh shit_. He’s gone and pissed off the spawn of Lucifer. But Jack doesn’t smite him, just looks at Dean for a long moment before turning his attention back to Cas.

That golden light spills from his hands as he reaches for Cas, and Dean’s heart leaps in his chest. But instead of pressing his hand to Cas’ forehead or his chest, Jack takes his hand.

It’s such a strange, tender, childlike gesture. Dean glances up at Sam, who’s watching with a puzzled look on his face. Jack sinks to his knees in front of the couch, still clutching Cas’ hand, and doesn’t move.

It could be minutes, or it could be hours. Time has lost all sense of meaning. Eventually, Sam drops into the chair by the window.

“We could be here awhile,” he comments.

Dean doesn’t want to leave, but he doesn’t want to stay either. Something about this house makes him deeply uncomfortable, and it doesn’t take him long to figure out why. 

The Bunker is their home, but now it’s been tainted by the British Men of Letters. This place is basically the complete opposite: small and bright and full of windows. It’s peaceful and secure and exactly the kind of place Dean would want to live out the rest of his days.

Preferably with Cas at his side.

The thought is overwhelming. He crosses the room and he wrenches the door open, practically running outside, desperate for fresh air. He closes his eyes and breathes in the smell of the trees, the water, letting it calm him. 

When he opens them again, he takes a step back so suddenly that he almost trips over a rock on the ground. The portal to the other universe is gone, but there’s a faint shimmering light surrounding the entire area instead, like some sort of dome or force-field of energy. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters. He picks up the rock that he nearly tripped on and tosses it gently towards the shimmering barrier. It bounces back and falls to the ground with a gentle thud.

As if this whole situation could get any weirder.

Dean goes back inside and pokes Sam in the chest. “Go look outside,” he commands.

His tone must be convincing enough, because Sam doesn’t even protest, just does as he’s told. He comes back looking a little shaken. “What is that?”

“Dunno, but it’s definitely got something to do with him,” Dean replies, looking over at Jack, who’s still kneeling on the floor, holding Cas’ hand.

“I don’t think we can get out,” Sam says quietly. 

And yeah, that’s mildly terrifying. 

“He’s keeping the rest of the world away,” Sam goes on. “And stopping time while we’re in here.”

“But why?” Dean just can’t figure it out. Jack took on the body of a fully-grown person like he wanted the power and agency that comes with adulthood, like he meant to get right down to business. So why the delay now?

Sam shrugs. “I’m more worried about what happens when we do get out of here,” he confesses. 

That’s a sobering thought. Dean drops heavily into the other chair and cradles his head in his hands. If he wasn’t so scared of breaking the connection between Jack and Cas, he would try to ask questions, to figure out Jack’s plan. But if there’s even the slightest chance that whatever Jack is doing is going to bring Cas back to them, Dean won’t risk it.

“So we wait,” he says.

Across the room, Sam nods. “So we wait,” he echoes.

Not like they have much choice in the matter.

***

They don’t need to eat, or sleep, or anything else. The sky stays the same colour outside the windows of the little house, and after awhile, they stop speaking, lost in their own thoughts. Occasionally one of them will get up to stretch their legs, pacing around the room or climbing up and down the stairs over and over again.

Dean goes outside and looks at the water, the way the moon is reflected in its calm surface. He remembers his dream of fishing by the lake, remembers how Cas would find him there. He also remembers the day Cas walked into a reservoir, black coils seeping from his body, and didn’t come back out. 

If a few tears roll silently down his cheeks, there’s no one but the moon to witness it. 

He looks at the place where Cas crumpled to the ground, the place where he can still see the faint outline of wings in the dirt. He can also see the indents left behind from where he knelt at Cas’ side, keeping watch over his lifeless body. It’s a stark image, and he has to turn his head and look away. It’s too final, too severe. 

When he goes back inside, Sam stands and walks out the door, silently taking his turn for a break. Dean wonders what Sam thinks about out there under the stars and the light of Jack’s power. It feels like a long time before he comes back.

“I hate this,” Sam says, his voice rough from disuse. “I hate feeling useless.”

“I know,” Dean replies. “But what can we do, Sam? I’m not about to interrupt him, not when he’s--”

He can’t even finish his sentence. Sam hesitates, then drops a comforting hand on his shoulder. Dean exhales shakily and leans into the touch. “He was dead, Sam,” he says. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that, we had a plan, and then…”

“I know,” Sam says, his grip tightening. “I know.”

And he does. That’s one of the best things about Sam, how he knows what Dean’s saying even when he can’t get the right words out. 

The same thing Dean never managed to say to Cas when he was alive. The same thing he’s regretting never letting cross his lips. 

Sam pats him on the back and returns to his chair. Dean takes a deep breath and walks over to the couch, perching lightly on the arm behind Cas’ head. Jack doesn’t look up at his approach, all his attention still focused on Cas, his eyes wide and glowing.

Dean carefully smoothes the hair back from Cas’ forehead. It doesn’t feel as cold as he expected, but then again, it’s warm in the house. 

There’s not much use pretending now. Sam knows, has probably always known, and it was torture sitting that far away from Cas when all Dean wanted was to be near him. And since Jack doesn’t seem to mind, this is where Dean will stay. Right at Cas’ side, right where he belongs.

He isn’t giving up on him. Cas said he had faith in Jack, in what he could be. Dean’s always struggled with putting his faith in people, but Cas-- well, Cas he believes in.

It seems to be getting even warmer in the house. Dean shrugs off his plaid shirt so he’s in a single layer, and when he goes to toss it aside, he notices the golden light shimmering around the walls of the house. 

“Sam,” he says. “Look.”

Sam’s head whips up, and he visibly tenses when he notices the light, which is climbing up the walls and across the ceiling, bathing the whole room in a golden glow. “That’s new,” he says, getting to his feet. “What does it mean?”

Dean’s too busy watching Jack and Cas to answer. The light spilling from Jack’s hands has brightened, and it’s traveling through Cas’ body like veins of fire. “Sam,” he says again. “Sam, look.”

Dean slides to the ground beside Jack, staring down into Cas’ face as the light reaches it. It flickers under his eyelids, and then--

His eyes open, and they’re gold.

Dean’s heart plummets in his chest. He doubts this means anything good. 

But then Cas blinks once, and the golden light fades away, leaving only that old familiar blue.

“Dean?” he says, his voice low and scratchy and sweeter than any of the songs Dean put on that goddamn mixtape.

He hears Sam’s startled intake of breath, but he can’t look away. “Cas,” he breathes. “Is it really--”

Cas nods slowly. “It’s me,” he confirms, and even though that’s exactly what someone pretending to be Cas would say, the _way_ he says it soothes all of Dean’s fears. 

Jack stands, letting go of Cas’ hand, and Dean finally tears his gaze away.

There’s a smile on Jack’s face, and all the light in the room is slowly returning to him as if drawn in by a magnet. “Thank you,” he says, looking down at Castiel. His voice is smooth and light, but there’s an undercurrent of something like lightning in it.

Cas tries to sit up, and Dean does what he wanted to do when they were still on the ground outside, sliding his arm beneath Cas’ shoulder to help him upright. 

The smile Cas gives Jack in return makes Dean’s breath catch in his throat, it’s so beautiful.

“You’re welcome,” Cas says. He sounds tired, but pleased. Like he’s done a good job with something.

“I have to go,” Jack announces. He looks down at himself, noting his lack of proper clothing. He waves a glowing hand, and in a second he’s fully dressed. “I have to find my mother.”

“Your mother,” Sam repeats, throwing Dean a confused look. “Jack, I don’t know how to tell you this, but she’s dead.”

“No.” Jack shakes his head with certainty. “She was dead. But now she isn’t. I can feel her out there, somewhere. I have to find her.”

“Jack’s power is...difficult to control,” Cas says, and he sounds almost proud. “If he says Kelly is alive, she’s alive. She may have been sent elsewhere by mistake, but he brought her back somehow.”

Jack nods. “Just like I brought you back,” he says, looking at Cas fondly. 

“And not that we’re not grateful for that,” Dean says slowly, “but why exactly did that take so long?”

He isn’t complaining, really. He’s just trying to figure out what the hell is going on, even as a little voice in his mind keeps repeating the most important fact: _Cas is alive, Cas is alive, Cas is alive_. 

Jack looks slightly embarrassed. “We had some things to discuss,” he says.

Dean gives Cas an inquisitive look, and Cas laughs before answering. “Questions about the world, mainly.”

Sam raises an eyebrow. “You guys were...communicating, somehow?”

“Yes,” Jack says proudly. “And now I’ve learned all that I can from Castiel, just as my mother wished.”

“I thought she wanted you to look after him,” Dean says in a low voice.

Cas shrugs, the movement slightly impeded by his awkward position on the couch. “That was when she thought she would be dead. Permanently. She’s alive, and she’ll want to see her son. Jack doesn’t need me.”

“I did, but not anymore,” Jack tells him. “Not yet, anyways.”

Cas just nods. “Go find Kelly,” he says. “Tell her...thank you. For trusting me.”

Jack bends down and places a kiss on Cas’ forehead. It’s fond and respectful and it feels like a blessing, even to Dean. 

“Farewell,” he says, straightening back up. 

“Wait,” Sam calls after him. “The light. Your power. We can’t get out.”

“It should be fine now,” Jack replies. “A side-effect of my distraction, I think. I’ve re-absorbed it all now.”

“And what about the portal?” Dean asks. “Our mom, she’s stuck over there, and--”

Jack stares at him for a second, and Dean wonders if he’s pushed their luck too far. But then Jack nods, and beckons to Dean to follow him outside. Sam comes over and helps him get Cas to his feet, and they stagger out of the house together.

Jack lifts a glowing hand and slashes at the air. A few seconds later, another portal appears. “I will come to close it when it’s time,” he says. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Sam says, his eyes wide.

Dean just nods. He’s still too overwhelmed by the feeling of Cas’ hand in his own, the way Cas is slumped against him, shaky but alive. Alive. 

They watch in silence as Jack walks away from the house, down the road through the trees until they can no longer see him. Dean tilts his head up to the sky and sees the sun climbing over the horizon, lets the breeze wash over him. 

“Let’s get you back inside,” he says to Cas.

“I’m fine,” Cas protests, but Dean silences him with a stern look. He just came back from the dead, Dean’s got a right to be worried about him.

They leave the door open, letting in the fresh air. The stairs are narrow, so Sam stays behind on the main floor, a small smile playing around his lips as he waves Dean and Cas forward. Dean shoots him a mock-glare over his shoulder, and Sam just shrugs. 

Dean helps Cas up to the other bedroom, the one he was probably using as his own. Cas sits heavily on the bed, then curls onto his side and looks up at Dean, his eyes warm and blue and so soft that something in Dean just breaks. He drops onto the bed beside Cas, one tentative hand resting lightly on his ankle, needing to feel that he’s there, solid and present.

“You were dead,” he mumbles, looking away. “God, Cas, I thought you were dead.”

Cas reaches out and takes hold of Dean’s other hand. “I was,” he says wonderingly. “Part of me was, anyways. The angelic part.”

Dean looks back at him and frowns. “The angelic part?”

Cas gives him a wry smile. “I still had some of Jack’s power inside me,” he says quietly. “When Lucifer stabbed me with the angel blade, it only affected my Grace, not Jack’s power. That was how he was able to communicate with me, how he was able to pull me back.”

“But does that mean that you’re, you know. Human?” Dean asks. He doesn’t know what he wants the answer to be.

“No,” Cas says slowly. “Jack and I, we talked about that as well. He said it was my choice. His power, it’s incredible, Dean. He could bring me back as a human, or restore my Grace.”

“And you chose to be an angel again.” Dean can’t keep the hurt from his voice. Cas chose Heaven again, even though they’ve betrayed him a million times over.

“Oh, Dean,” Cas murmurs. He squeezes Dean’s hand reassuringly. “I thought about it. I was so tempted to ask him to make me human, to let me live out my days with you and Sam. But there’s so much uncertainty in the world, and Jack still needs time before he can fully control his power. You can’t deny being an angel is useful, sometimes.”

“You’re right about that,” Dean replies. “So, what, then. You rest up, and then go report to Heaven?”

He doesn’t want to hear Cas confirm it, but he’d rather hurt now than later.

“No.” Cas smiles at him. “I may be an angel, but my place isn’t in Heaven. My place is here, with you.”

“And if we have to go through that portal?” Dean asks, barely believing this is happening. “If we have to travel to another universe to find our mom and bring her back?”

“I’ll be right beside you,” Cas says, and it sounds like a promise. Like a vow. 

That’s all Dean wants. All he’s wanted for a long, long time. He looks helplessly at Cas, unable to form a reply, until Cas lifts their joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of Dean’s hand.

A shudder runs through Dean’s entire body, and he leans forward until he’s stretched out on the bed beside Cas, both curled on their sides, facing each other. He swallows heavily, and Cas nods, all the answer he needs to close the last few inches between them and finally press their lips together.

It’s gentle and sweet, but it’s the most intense kiss Dean has ever felt in his life. Cas kisses in the same way he does everything else: with single-minded focus. Dean surrenders to it happily, clutching Cas around the waist and deepening the kiss, pouring out all of his longing and his pent-up emotions. He doesn’t want it to ever end.

But his mom is stuck in another world with Lucifer, and they have no idea how much time has passed outside of their little bubble.

Dean pulls away with some reluctance. “There’ll be more time for that later,” he says.

“I certainly hope so,” Cas replies, and Dean laughs and kisses him again. 

“Do you want to take a nap?” Dean asks, running his hand idly over a patch of skin at Cas’ waist where his shirt has ridden up.

“No,” Cas replies. “It was difficult, at first, readjusting to the world. Jack’s power is overwhelming, but it’s also restorative. I’ll be fine now.”

Dean gives him a skeptical look, and Cas laughs. “I swear, I’ll be fine,” he repeats.

“And Jack?”

“He’ll be alright too,” Cas says softly. “He just wants to find his place in the world. Like we all do. And finding Kelly is the first part of that.”

“You don’t think we have to worry about him? He is Lucifer’s kid,” Dean points out.

“I wouldn’t want him under Lucifer’s influence,” Cas says with a slight shudder. “But Lucifer isn’t here. And we’ll keep an eye on him. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, Dean. I promise.”

“Okay.” It’s tough to accept, but Cas has a deeper connection to Jack than any of them. If he says Jack is good, or at least not bad, that’s enough for Dean. 

“You know what we have to do next,” Cas says quietly, looking at Dean with solemn eyes. “Where we have to go.”

“Yeah.” Dean closes his eyes for a brief second, wishing they could stay here in this little house by the water forever. But that’s just not the way the universe works for them.

They descend the stairs hand in hand, and Sam doesn’t comment, but he does sweep Cas into an embrace, one that Cas enthusiastically returns. Sam has already assembled their gear, and Dean checks over it quickly before nodding his approval. They have no idea what they’re walking into, but they’ve got a little bit of everything, and they’ve got each other. 

They’ll be alright.

“Ready?” Sam asks, looking at the shimmering line of light in the clearing outside the house.

Dean turns to look at Cas. Part of him doesn’t want to let him walk into danger again, not so soon after getting him back, but the other part knows they’re stronger together. 

“Ready,” Cas says. He stands tall and proud, and Dean loves him so, so, so much. 

With a deep breath, they walk through the portal and into another world. 

The rising sun shines over the water in the one they’ve left behind, the house quiet and still, waiting for their return.


End file.
